


Mind's Deception

by Doot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, I mean nott is mentioned so shes....there but not really, Spoilers for episode 13, and realized i have this account so here u go, caleb and the dream of too many calebs, caleb is having a bad time, canon-divergent, how do you tag, listen i just wanted to get this out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14239341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doot/pseuds/Doot
Summary: Caleb just wants to go to sleep and this dodecahedron of doom decides he will not, in fact, be able to sleep.





	Mind's Deception

**Author's Note:**

> My version of the dream Caleb had in his solo with Matt! This is spoiler heavy, but hey I didn't even see all of the episode so you do you if you read.

He finds himself in a calm. It is a sensation he is not unfamiliar with, but one that had been fleeting for some time. Time that he had spent begging on the street, time he had spent within the confines of a prison, time he had spent surviving with Nott. Always on edge, always ready to fight or flee. Now, now was different. Now he could rest with ease, let himself sink into sleep without so much as a second thought. No pause to wonder if someone would find them down in the cellar. No hesitation to consider the possibility of being found after what had happened in the Trispire. Espionage, the death of the High Richter, the dark elf in the sewers. All of it was too much to process, too much for him to comprehend, it nearly pushes him into panic. 

Then there was the orb. This funny thing he held in his lap, how it was warm in his hands and how he knew not to look into what may lurk in the darkness. There was a sense of security with it in his hand, something he always had to give and not receive. Nott was sound asleep against his thigh, a spot she often frequented after they had settled for bed. Eyes return to the orb, but after examining it he realized the word was not entirely true. Similar to a sphere, it had edges, so it was not entirely an orb at all. 

Exhaustion had him in its grip, and with the need for sleep came carelessness came foolishness came looking deep into those depths the dodecahedron harbored. Then sleep. The drooping of eyelids as body relaxed. His guard had dropped, comforted both by the company of his companion as well as the thing held close to himself. 

Then came the pull, and it was panic once more though inviting all the same. The feeling of needing to run on top of the knowledge of not needing to run. Everything in his body screamed for him to wake, to stop the dream where it was and to return to consciousness. To place the object far away from him and to be done with it. But such things could not be done when it rested cozily in the palms of his hands. Not when it was so inviting, so peaceful. Perhaps this was what he sought after all of this, the sensation of peace? 

Motion ceases, and in a blink, he sees himself. Caleb after Caleb after Caleb. Ones that were cleaner, filthier, shorter or longer hair. Different clothing, different grooming. All of them held the orb in the same manner, the same distance from the chest the same bend of the elbow the same look of intrigue. Their eyes moved like his, looking from one to the other in both fear and fascination. Then they stop. Heads lower, all aside from the Caleb he knows is himself, but weren’t they all himself? Was he not every Caleb around him, was he not  _ the  _ Caleb Widogast? The wizard, the fugitive, a member of the Mighty Nein? Was he not the companion of a goblin? Was he not the deserter Caleb Widogast of the Second Battalion? Was he not the son of poor folk? Was he not the Caleb Widogast that had nearly gotten into the Soltryce Academy? Was he not the single Caleb Widogast, though recreations of himself surrounded him?  _ Who was he?  _

Heads rise at once, and eyes lock on him. All dark, with no object in their hands. No, for those hands rise and glow with the arcane. With abilities he hated but used nonetheless. Abilities he was forced to use, abilities he only knew to use. He was a weapon, he was created to destroy as they had always wanted him to. He was made for this, made for this moment and every Caleb around him knew except for him. This Caleb that he knew as himself was the one out of the loop, the one rejecting what he had done and fearing the powers he had obtained. This was the Caleb that had to be destroyed before harm could come to the rest. This was the Caleb, this was the Caleb, this was the Caleb this was the Caleb this was the Caleb---

Before the flame bursts from palms outstretched, arms rising to shield himself from the coming attack, he is moved. Dream shifts, and he sees not the many versions of himself, but the sight of a place he thought to know. The scent of home, of wildflowers in a vase at the center of a table. Of a woman humming a tune he could not recall, one that held weight in his heart if only he could remember why he started trembling at the sound of it. If only he could understand why he was being shown this, why it had seen through him as though he were transparent. As though he was little more than a sweet gawked at by a child. The nature of the thing was unknown, but he could not find the desire to cast it aside and be done with it. It was this melody that haunted him, the voice of a woman he might have known in another life. The wildflowers that blossomed every summer, the scent of  _ home _ ...

And it is gone. It is gone as soon as it is shown, as soon as he experienced it. It is gone like dust blown in the wind, like life escaping in the final exhale of a creature, like a dream he had forgotten the moment he woke. There he is, down in the dark cellar with Nott with her head on his thigh. With his hands clutching the dodecahedron as if his life depended on it. As if this thing would help him and keep him safe, as if he would prefer whatever this object might be over his own companion. 

It scares him in that moment, and he wonders if he should throw it to a corner or keep it as close as it is. Whatever he chose, sleep would not return to him as easily as before. 

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy ending things is so hard. poor caleb! I wish he would be able to get a good nights sleep! but those reflections(?) were so cool...


End file.
